The First Day in the Rest of Timothy McGee's Life
by ytteb
Summary: What happens to McGee as Tony takes his leave - and how does he feel? One shot that I suppose is like a missing scene (or three) for the Season 13 finale.


Special Agent Timothy McGee ran across the parking lot, "Tony!" he shouted, "Wait!"

_Former_ Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo looked up from where he was stowing his gear in the trunk of his car, "What?"

Tim gasped, "Wait …"

"Might want to get your stamina up," observed Tony as he saw Tim panting.

Tim looked up crossly, "Hey! I was running."

"Yeah, kinda guessed that. You know, like I was saying … ten-minute run in the morning and at night … gradually build it up – it'll work wonders," said Tony with exaggerated kindness.

Tim's glare continued, "Shouldn't have bothered," Tim complained.

"Why did you?"

"I forgot to give you this," Tim handed a package to Tony.

"Present!" Tony's eyes lit up – his own record at present giving was, in the eyes of his former co-workers – patchy but he loved receiving them. "Hey, I'm sorry, man. This is great. I mean, I don't know what it is yet," he shook the package experimentally, "But I'm sure it will be great," And, as he considered Tim's own record at gift purchases, he added, "And it's the thought that counts."

Tim gazed at Tony and felt the familiar sense of exasperation that attended most of his dealings with Tony and felt his stomach lurch as he realised that everything had changed now. Tony had resigned from NCIS and was about to start a new phase of his life. Tim had never had an elder brother, but he thought this was probably what it felt like when the annoying older sibling departed for college.

"Good luck," he said.

"Thanks, Tim," said Tony solemnly, "I'll open this later, OK?"

Tim nodded. Tony opened the door of the car and stooped as if to get in but then he stood back up, "Hey, McProbienomore," he grinned, "– sorry, couldn't resist one last mcnickname! Tim, you remember that time when Gibbs quit … sorry, retired … he told you that you're a good agent?" Tim nodded and Tony continued, "Well, even though his memory was pretty scrambled at the time, the Boss got that right although I'm guessing he never said it to you again!" Tim shook his head and Tony nodded sympathetically.

"Like I said, he got that right. And you need to remember that. And you need to remember _this_ – do not let him jerk you around. I mean, he _will _jerk you around – he's the Boss but there's one thing you shouldn't let him jerk you around about," Tony leaned forward and jabbed a finger in Tim's chest to emphasise his point, "Make sure he decides who's going to be the new me … well, obviously, I'm irreplaceable but you get the drift," McGee rolled his eyes. "Gibbs has to decide who's going to be the new Senior Field Agent. Don't let him keep you hanging for months (or years) while he does some weird Gibbsian testing or weighing up before finally telling you as he demonstrates a Marine type torture on you while you're lying on the floor in autopsy! Trust me, there are other ways to deliver a promotion!"

Tim looked back at Tony with wide eyes, "W-what?"

"Tim," said Tony gently, "You know what Gibbs is like. Sphinx-like – talks in riddles which he never explains (and which I don't think have a meaning half the time). I reckon cryptic was invented to describe him. You know that he'll probably take months to choose someone to fill the vacant slot on the team. And that's fine but don't let him keep _you_ hanging. Understand?" Another finger was jabbed in the chest.

"Yes, Boss," joked Tim.

Tony grinned but then his eyes clouded, "No. Didn't happen that way after all, did it? I mean, not properly. But that's OK … and Tim, if you stand up to Gibbs then maybe that will convince him you're the man for the job …"

Tim nodded, "Thanks, Tony … for everything …"

Tony nodded back. He patted the roof of the car in a sort of farewell and then climbed in and drove off. Tim watched him go. For a few seconds he gazed at the empty parking spot and then he clenched his fists and walked over to his own car.

NCISNCIS

"Boss," said Tim as he padded down the stairs in Gibbs' basement.

"McGee."

"Um … that was odd."

"What?"

"You know, Tony … turning out to have … that he's a Dad."

"Huh."

"Must've been a shock."

"Hmm."

"You know … finding out …"

"That he's got a kid," completed Gibbs.

"Yeah. Can't imagine what … well, I guess I can …" said McGee conscientiously.

"Yeah?"

"Not that it's happened to me, of course," said Tim hastily. "I mean, it could have done … I mean, I'm not a … well, you know … but I figure that if it did … not that it has … the girl – I mean, woman, would have let me know …"

"Yeah?"

"In fact – now I think of it, there was a time when my college girlfriend thought … you know, she was worried but it turned out that she wasn't," Tim huffed a relieved sigh as he remembered, "Although I would've stood by her – you know, if she'd wanted me to … and I wouldn't have assumed that she … but – as it turned out …"

"She wasn't?"

"Yes … I mean, no. I mean …"

"McGee! What are you doing here?"

"Well …"

"I'm guessing it's not to tell me about your college romances?"

"No! No, 'course not, Boss. I mean, apart from anything else, I know – we all know – that you're not a fan of us telling stories about college …" Tim trailed off as he encountered a typically blank Gibbs' stare. He swallowed as he decided that perhaps it had been a bad idea to start with a conversational icebreaker – he had walked down the stairs in the confident manner he had been practising on the drive from the Navy Yard but now felt flustered and agitated.

"So, what is it? Spit it out! Man could grow old and die waiting for you to come to the point!"

McGee wondered why Gibbs could be in a hurry. Unless he had important plans with Fornell? Or another ex-wife was about to show up. Or …

"McGee!" snapped Gibbs as he saw his agent apparently going into some sort of reverie. He hoped it wasn't one involving Agent _Tibbs._

"Yes, Boss," replied McGee, just managing to avoid saying _sorry_. "Yes, of course. You want to know why I've come. Especially as it's not long since we were both at work. And we've had a busy few days. Lifechanging, I guess you could call them …"

"McGee!"

"I want to know what your plans are," said Tim. Not perhaps as boldly as he had rehearsed in his mind but still pretty firmly.

"Oh, you do, do you?" said Gibbs in one of his menacing tones.

"Yes, yes, I do."

"Plans about what?" continued Gibbs in the same sinister voice.

"A-about the team."

"What about the team?" Gibbs leaned forward slightly.

Tim resisted the impulse to lean back, "I want to know … I _need_ to know who's going to be Senior Field Agent."

"Oh, you do, do you?"

"Yes, yes, I do."

"Why?"

"Why?"

"Yes, why do you _need_ to know who's going to be Senior Agent?"

"I guess I don't exactly need to know who's going to be senior," conceded Tim, "But I do need to know if it's going to be me."

"And why's that, Special Agent McGee?"

"Because it makes sense for everyone to know. I mean, I know you don't – you didn't – always treat Tony as being Senior Field Agent but at least he knew … eventually. And I'd rather know – one way or the other – rather than have you keep me hanging on, not … knowing …"

"And you think you should be Senior Field Agent?"

"Sure. Why shouldn't I be? I worked with you for years – I know what you're like," (Tim felt it was to his credit that he avoided grimacing), "I know how you like things done … and I figure I'm good at my job. Must be, otherwise you'd have fired me by now."

"Huh. That it?"

Tim gritted his teeth, "You want more?"

"You got more?"

"I reckon I've got what you need," said Tim firmly.

"You do, huh?"

"Yes, yes I do."

"OK."

"OK? Is that OK in that I got the job or OK in like you'll let me know?" said Tim doggedly.

"What do you think?"

"I don't know, Boss. You're kinda doing your functional mute thing again … only with words."

"Is that so?" asked Gibbs as he took a sip from his bourbon.

"Yes, I think so. 'cos I'm not really sure what it is you're asking me, Boss," said Tim trying to stay calm and composed.

"I'm asking my _Senior Field Agent_ if he's up to the job – you know, of working with a functional mute?"

It took a moment or two for Tim to compute that Gibbs had managed, as usual, to get the upper hand and send him into a spin but then the mists cleared and he could almost feel Tony's finger jabbing him in the chest and hear his words, _Don't let Gibbs jerk you around_. "Sure, Boss," he said calmly, "Thanks. I won't let you down. See you in the morning," and he turned around and sprinted lightly up the stairs.

It was only when he got upstairs, that he allowed himself to sag in relief and then punch the air in delight. He strode back to his car, wondering if he should buy himself some sort of heartrate monitor because he suspected his future working role was going to be even more stressful than his current one!

NCISNCIS

Later that night – much later, Tim sat down gingerly at what he supposed was his new desk. He ran a hand over the surface and caught a trace of Lemon Pledge furniture polish – he stowed this oddity away for future consideration.

Perhaps he didn't need to move desk – it wasn't as if it was labelled _Senior Field Agent_: he could stay in his old desk if he wanted. After all, he had once lectured a group of interns on the excellence of that desk with its superior sight lines. Except, that sitting at Tony's desk he realised that he could more easily see people arriving in the elevator _and_ he noticed that exit routes were clearer too. He wouldn't have to walk past Gibbs' desk to leave; there was a slight chance that he could be gone before Boss had noticed. Yeah, right – that was so not going to happen!

Tim would, of course, have to move his computers over from his old desk. He didn't think they were as sensitive as Abby's babies, but was it worth the risk? A microsecond delay on getting a result could be crucial to the solving of the case. His head jerked up as he imagined he could hear a ghostly laugh from the filing cabinet where Tony had once stored spare clothes. Tim stretched his legs in an attempt at nonchalance and realised something else was different – he didn't kick Tony's go-bag, which, like everything else belonging to Tony had gone.

Tim decided that his brain had not quite accepted that Tony had left even though the farewell had been categorical. It still seemed both wrong – and foolhardy – to sit at the DiNozzo desk; Tony was notoriously territorial. Tim sighed; it no longer mattered if Tony was territorial, he wouldn't be exercising that foible at NCIS any longer.

Tim opened a drawer at random but saw that it had been emptied of everything personal to Tony. He sighed again as he thought he might, weirdly, have found comfort in a half-used memo pad or chewed pen but Tony had cleared all trace of himself away. Tim sniffed again as he caught the scent of the furniture polish – it was too early for janitorial services to have been in and he realised with a shock that Tony must have come back and cleaned the desk himself. Not even a fingerprint would be left.

Tim considered again whether he should move desks. Tony had perhaps been trying to make it easier by removing all trace of a previous occupant, but Tim found himself sad to think that he would have only memories rather than tangible reminders. He remembered when they had thought that Tony had been blown up and they had all snatched a memento – they hadn't had time to do that this time. The lemon polish even obliterated what might have been the lingering smell of Tony's cologne – although Tim would usually have denied any knowledge of Tony's toiletries. Tim swallowed as he pictured Tony slowly cleaning and clearing his desk and letting go of memories, joys and sorrows.

The gap in the squad room suddenly loomed large and Tim decided that his earlier identification of Tony as the annoying elder brother was accurate. Tony had hazed Tim, but he had been there for him. Like an elder sibling he had blazed the trail – not exactly the first one to be allowed out on a date or the first one allowed to get a car but going first, so that it was easier for the brothers and sisters who followed him. From now on, it was Tim who would be first in line, Tim who might have to persuade Gibbs to accept new things …

The new Senior Field Agent swallowed as he thought of what was to come – and what it would feel like to do without the familiar, solid (and teasing) presence behind him. Still, Tony had believed he could do it – unless, of course, baiting him to confront Gibbs had been his final prank. Tim frowned at that thought but then decided it didn't matter – he had got the job. He just hoped he still wanted it!

Tim pulled out the bottom drawer and saw that, unlike the others, it wasn't empty but contained a lockable metal box. His eyes widened as he realised that Tony had left something akin to the NCIS holy grail – Gibbs' medals! He lifted the box out and with a hand that trembled slightly at the thought of the responsibility, opened the lid. A piece of paper rested on the top,

_Tim_

_Thought it was time you had these. They go with the job and I'm pretty sure Gibbs will give it to you. Make sure you have one another's six, you hear!_

_I don't know where I'm going to be for a while so do me a favour and look after these …_

For a moment, Tim thought Tony was referring to Gibbs' medals but then he saw the box was fuller than the last time he had caught a glimpse of the contents. He opened one of the boxes and saw a bravery medal awarded by the Baltimore Mayor's office – the inscription showed it had been awarded when Tony rescued the boy from the burning building. As Tim searched through the contents, he found commendation awards from Philadelphia and Baltimore Police Departments and finally he found Tony's own Navy Meritorious Civilian Service Award from when he had rescued Gibbs from drowning – and which he had accepted quietly and with disbelief.

Tim smiled. Tony had left mementos after all and, Tim hoped, a promise that he would be back some day. He returned to the letter,

_Thanks for the books. Great idea to get Winnie the Pooh talking books in Hebrew – Tali loves them already._

_Semper Fi._

"Semper Fi, Tony," whispered Tim, "I'll miss you … well, sometimes!" He grinned as he put the medals back in the box, locked it up and put the key on his keyring. Tomorrow was another day – the first day of the rest of his life … and he'd leave thinking about moving desk till tomorrow …

* * *

_AN – the characters aren't mine and they're back in the owners' box! I was a little surprised that Gibbs made up his mind so quickly about the new SFA and decided to fill the gap!_


End file.
